


A Nair Story

by fandomlover101



Series: Supernatural Oneshots [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Humour, Pranks, nair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomlover101/pseuds/fandomlover101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“DEAN! What the HELL did you DO?!” As Sam came out of the bathroom, Dean exploded with laughter. The longer-than-military hair that Sam kept so carefully (because at this age it really was all about presentation) was gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nair Story

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve had this thought in my head for a while. And I’m sorry for the ending, but endings are hard! Even Chuck said so.

“DEEEAAAANNNNN!!!”

The shriek (because that was really what it was. His thirteen year old brother sounded like a girl more often than not now) sent Dean rocketing up from his place on the not-so-comfortable motel bed where he was watching commercials.

“DEAN! What the HELL did you DO?!” As Sam came out of the bathroom, Dean exploded with laughter. The longer-than-military hair that Sam kept so carefully (because at this age it really was all about presentation) was gone. Or mostly gone. He still had tufts of hair randomly on his head.

“Wh-what? Don’t y-y-you like –” Dean gasped for breath between syllables, laughter still bubbling up. “Your hair!”

Sam crossed his arms and stared at Dean. The look on his face possibly screamed murder. If Dean hadn’t been the one to mostly train Sam, and hadn’t been training for longer, he might actually have been scared. Also, it would’ve helped if Sam still had hair on his head. The dim motel light was shining on the top and didn’t help the look.

“Dad is going to kill you.”

“Dude, he’s been telling you to get a haircut for weeks now! I just thought I’d make it a bit easier. Less painful.” Dean’s face was now bright red from laughing so hard. Clutching his stomach, he moved over to rub his hand on top of Sam’s head.

“Get away from me!” Sam swatted Dean’s hand away and moved back into the bathroom to stare in horror in the mirror.

“You gotta do something with that head of yours. It looks ridiculous with those tiny bits of hair everywhere,” Dean suggested from his place behind Sam. Helpfully he thought. In return for his sage advice, he found bitchface number 5 staring back at him in the mirror.

“What am I going to do?! I have school tomorrow!” Sam snarled.

“Skip it,” Dean suggested. “You can train with me.”

“I have a test! I’m not skipping.” Sam ran his hand over his head, still staring in the mirror. “I’m supposed to meet Katrina before school to go over notes!”

“Just tell her you got your shampoo mixed up with a bit of Nair. It’ll be fine!” Dean sighed.

Sam turned away from the mirror finally, and with one last glare, slammed the door on Dean. When Sam reappeared ten minutes later, the tufts of hair were gone, and his head was smooth. And shiny. Dean was careful to keep his face neutral, although when Sam fell onto his own bed, he couldn’t help but snigger a little. This was definitely one of his best pranks ever.

* * *

Dean glanced up from his magazine as the door burst open and slammed shut again, revealing his brother who was wearing a hoodie. Hood up, of course.

“How’d it go?”

Sam glared at him in response, throwing his backpack on the floor and crossing the room to collapse on his bed in a huff.

“Oh come on, it couldn’t have been that bad, right? I mean, it’s only hair.” Silence. “Sam?” More silence. “Oh, come on.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a girl, Samantha.”

Sam huffed, and rolled from his back to his side, facing away from Dean.

The next morning, when Dean went out to get his car, having decided to actually go to school himself, he found his car totally covered in saran-wrap. Every single inch of it was covered in that clingy plastic, and Dean felt panic for his baby welling up in his chest. Running forward, he tried to rip it off, but there were layers. Hearing laughter from behind him, he turned to glare at his brother.

“You little –” and Dean started after him. Sam immediately stopped laughing, turned and bolted the other way. Dean, however, being older and taller, caught up to the younger Winchester just around the corner of the motel and immediately pulled him back, only to receive an elbow to his diaphragm. “Dammit,” he gasped, already moving to get a quick hit at his brother. Several minutes later had the two of them panting for breath, Sam struggling in a headlock. Finally exhausted, the two of them collapsed on the ground.

“Don’t you ever touch my car again, bitch.”

“That was payback, jerk!”

“Yeah, well.” Dean scowled at his brother. “Truce?”

Sam looked warily at Dean’s outstretched hand. “Truce.”

However, from that day on, Sam seemed to have an extreme love for his hair, cringing anytime someone mentioned a cut.


End file.
